Double Standard
by CenConlon
Summary: Lily has the perfect life: money and two parents who wish to see her successful and happy. It wasn't always this way, she used to be a Newsie. She used to be happy...
1. Chapter 1

The rain sloshed around the streets of New York combining itself with the muddy cobble stone and trash-filled alleys. My dress skirt was skimming through the puddles beneath me and my leather boots kicked up the dirty water. It was afternoon on a Tuesday and the sun was nowhere in sight. The city was empty for once as people crowded under awnings or in stores, trying to fight the storm. I was in no hurry, not really anyways. I was observing the buildings and streets I had been away from for so long. It hadn't really changed in the past six years. Everything was just as big, just as noisy, and just as adventurous. But none of it felt like it belonged to me. It used to. When I was eleven, I traveled the streets like I was the only person to walk them. I had secret alley ways that took me from one part of town to the next in half the time. I had friends…

I eventually made it to our house right along Fifth Avenue and climbed up the brick steps. Carol was inside knitting something, probably a baby's blanket, and looked up. In disgust, she quickly placed the knitting down and stomped over to me.

"Your dress!" She shouted as she examined the hem line. It was torn, muddy, and soaking the floor beneath me. The once coral coloring that probably took two poor seamstresses days to make was now a dirty brown. I sighed. "You were supposed to take the trolley. What happened to that, huh?" Shrugging, I began walking up the stairs.

"I liked walkin' better." I could hear her groan as I made my way to what was now called my room. We just moved into the vacant house and my room was filled with boxes of clothes and other knick-knacks. Virginia and New York were completely opposite, though the people themselves rarely changed. The people in my old town were just as vulgar as the people that trumped through New York. Except, the Virginians still referred to this state as "That damn Yankee state." And I'm sure there were names against Virginia too. I searched for a few cents and headed back down the stairs. Carol merely glanced up from her knitting.

"Where are you going, now, Lillian?" I hated when she used my full name.

"To buy a pape." Now she stood up.

"Excuse me?" She gave me her disapproving faces. "No, you will not. Especially if you don't learn to say it correctly. I will not have you be associated with those _rats_ again. Do you understand?" I stared blankly at her and then gathered myself.

"You're right, Mom. I was out of line and will use proper etiquette. May I please buy a paper? I hear they have a section for comics now." I forced a smile and then offered the icing. "I'll even bring my umbrella." She smiled and kissed my cheek. Grabbing the umbrella, I opened it outside and headed back into the streets.

This time I felt even farther from the city. The umbrella somehow made me feel… disconnected; like I was suddenly a different class and didn't fit in. Which was true, I don't fit in, at least, not how I used to. I was upper class now. A woman among the class of wealth and style, even if my heart felt otherwise. Suddenly, I began to feel nervous and debated retreating back to the house. No. I couldn't. I sent him a letter that I would be here and now it was my time to prove it.

I rounded the corner and entered Washington Square. The arch that was recently built to honor President Washington loomed over me as I looked at it for the first time. It was recently built and had attracted a lot of attention to the part of town. A lot of upper class felt that it represented them. I think it represents the city as a whole, but who am I to talk? I waited patiently with my black umbrella looming over my head and stared at the arch. Suddenly, I heard footsteps behind me and I turned around to a tall, shaggy blond. He smiled and ran a hand through his dirty blond hair as the rain poured down on him. He was drenched but completely at ease with himself. We stared at each other in silence until he suddenly grabbed me in an embrace and lightly spun me around.

"Cowboy," I said with a smile as he put me down.

"Lily." He stared at me for a while; taking it all in, I suppose. I couldn't blame him. I was staring right back. I couldn't help but wonder how in the world my best friend had grown into a man of strength and poise. He held himself with such strength and beauty; I couldn't get past it. His form had filled out. He used to be the tall, lanky kid. Now he was the tall and muscular man. He broke the silence with a low chuckle. "You're all grow'd up."

"I guess so. Trust me; you're all grown up too." I said with a sad smile. "Thank you for coming. I wasn't expecting you to." He looked at me blankly.

"Why? Coise I'se gonna come. Ain't no one crazy enough not ta show up fa yah!" He raised his hand as if he wanted to give me a playful shove and then decided otherwise and looked to the pouring sky. I tried to fight the pang it gave me and looked up with him. I forgot that I had my umbrella and sighed knowing he was wasting his only good clothes just to stand with me silently in the rain. His thin white shirt stuck tightly to his chest and his pants hovered above his ankles. He must be freezing. Especially because he lacked a coat.

"Let's go somewhere dry, eh?"

We walked to Tilly's. The small restaurant must have been over twenty years old because I remember so vividly eating every Friday afternoon with the guys. The cream colored walls with the brown diamond patterning and the red curtains that lined the ceiling were still as prevalent as ever. The only differences I could see were a few lopsided fans—perhaps from boys fooling around on them?—and green paneling that covered cabinet areas. The owner had taken very good care of the place. The rain splashed against the window and we were forced to sit in the corner of the restaurant for our clothes were drenched and leaving puddles everywhere we went. The waiter took our orders and Jack and I sat in silence for a while; covering the awkwardness with millions of thoughts swimming around our minds. When our food finally came, conversation seemed necessary.

"It's been so long." It was all I could think of saying. It was the truth. It has been so long. Six years apart from my best friend.

"Yeah. I… dunno what ta say I guess." He fumbled over his words and looked down at his food. I knew it was coming when he finally said, "How come ya never wrote till now?" I sighed and looked at him.

"I didn't know what to write. I…" I trailed off. "How's Manhattan?"

"Ya missed da strike." His tone was dry, but I could tell he didn't mean it. "It was crazy. All da bulls and scabs everywheres. I tell ya, if it weren't fo Spot-" He stopped abruptly and looked down. Another pang. "Sorry."

"It's okay. Tell me about the strike." For the next hour or so, Jack filled me in on the hustle and bustle of Manhattan and the way he led the biggest strike to ever happen to these boys. He went from meeting Davey, and how I'd get a kick out of him, and Sarah, his new love. I was definitely more interested in her and made him talk of her for at least an hour. He went on and on so much that by the end, all the awkwardness had quickly dissolved away. "You gotta come back and say hey ta da boys! I know ya said not ta tell no one, an' I didn't, but ya gotta see em."

I smiled softy and grabbed the check. He glared at me and snatched it back. "Okay, I'll say hi to them, only if you let me pay," I said as playfully as I could. In reality, there was no way I'd let him pay his week's change for the two of us. He agreed and soon we were walking out toward the lodging house. When we reached the door step, I stopped abruptly.

"Jack?" He turned around. "I don't think today's a good day. I think you should… warn em first. Can I see em tomorrow?"

"I uh, guess so." He paused and thought about it. "I guess you'se right. Tahmorrow would be best. I'll warn em tahnight and pick ya up tahmorrow to visit." He gave me an award winning smile and a warm embrace.

"And Jack?" He let me go and looked at me with his emerald eyes. They were glimmering. "Keep your promise. Don't tell Spot." He nodded his head and I left him standing on the lodging house steps as I headed back towards the mansions that awaited me on Fifth Avenue.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack entered the lodging house, scratching his head and trying to conceal the smile on his face. Mush was sitting on the lounge chair, looking at a book. He continuously turned it to the side as if it helped him understand the words. He looked up at Jack as he walked in and threw the book down on the side table. "Well?"

"Yeah, she met me." Jack sat down next to him as Mush jumped up. "Don' get too excited. She's noivous and has no idea I told you'se the second I got her letter. She won' let me tell Spot, neither." Scratching his head, Mush sat back down and picked up the book he'd tossed aside.

"She still gonna visit?"

"Coise. She just noivous. Not sure how everyone'll take her, I'spose." The rest of the boys began traveling down the stairs. Racetrack plopped down next to Mush and Jack and smiled.

"She's really here, boys! It's gonna be jus' like da old days." Jack grumbled and stood up. He looked the newsies in the eyes and took control.

"Boys, she ain't like she was. She's different. Got a new air to her, I'spose. Been through a lot and she's hidin' it all in her layers of clothes. She's beautiful though. Jus' beautiful. All dressed up and poifect." Jack looked at David who was clearly confused. "Her name's Lily. When we was younga, she was a newsie too, and we all was best friends, ya know? She got… adopted. And we ain't seen or heard from her since till the other day when I got her letter."

Davey smiled, trying to fight the awkwardness. "Well, when do we get ta meet her?" Jack smiled back; grateful David had changed the subject to a lighter note.

"Tahmorrow. She had to go home for the night, but tahmorrow, I'se pickin' her up and bringing her back here in the mornin'. Don't no one tell, Spot, though, ya hear?" The boys nodded their heads and continued talking about their visit in the morning. Maybe she'd buy them all lunch—though that was only half a joke—because when they were kids, she always tried to pay for everything. Racetrack commented on the time she'd bought him new trousers simply because she hated the color brown on him and thought he'd look older with a pair of black ones. Jack joined in the festivities, musing about the time she'd took him hat shopping and taught him how to steal the hats without ever getting caught, but he couldn't help but feel slightly like he was betraying Spot.

In Brooklyn, Spot stood on the edge of the dock, looking out into the distance. His eyes were gleaming like stones that were recently wet in the rain. His lips were set in a fine line as he watched the water ripple gently against the wood beneath him. He tapped his cane and rested his hand on the key around his neck, contemplating. He watched as Jade walked home and his eyes lowered as though he were ashamed. No, not ashamed, he was Spot Conlon. He raised his eyes again and straightened his back so the world loomed below him, powerless to his strength and inability to feel regret. He tore the key off his neck and stared at it in his hand. Balling it up into a fist, he debated chucking it into the river and forgetting it; instead, he kissed it gently and tucked it in his pocket to wear again later. Turning away, he instead spat into the river as though he were spitting on the image of himself and he entered the lodging house, poised and numb.

I couldn't sleep. Not entirely, anyways. The time passed slowly and I could hear the grandfather clock tick away a half second slower every tick. I probably fell in and out of sleep every few hours, but for the majority of the night, I laid in my bed and stared at the empty ceiling above me. I was going through the conversation with Jack at Tilly's. "If it wasn't for Spot," he'd said. What did Spot do? He'd stopped mentioning him after that and acted like Spot never even participated in the strike. _Like he didn't even exist._ I wonder if that's how Spot feels about me: like I don't even exist. Six years is a lot of days to forget about someone, especially if you're mad at them. I wonder if he thought about me just as often as I thought about him. I would know if I had the nerve to speak to him. I will. Eventually. I just can't get past the fear. The fear of everything lately. It's consumed me for the past six years so much that I've transformed into a new girl. Someone Spot wouldn't even recognize. Eventually, I fall asleep.

In the morning Carol woke me up. She shook the edge of the mattress like she always had and walked out of the room, angered at my late morning. Groggily, I knew I had to leave soon to meet Jack and quickly bathed. I threw on a sundress, because in the summer, New York is wet and humid, but it's also hot and nasty. A sundress seemed the best option so I wouldn't faint from heat. I'd probably just faint from seeing anyone anyways.

I walked down stairs, putting on my sweet face, and smiled at Carol who was once again knitting a baby blanket. She looked up and smiled in return. "You look nice. Going out?" I nodded my head and grabbed my handkerchief from the table.

"I'd like to go look in the shops for the day. I forgot that the weather is so different here and need to look into some new stockings." I wiped the small beads of sweat from my forehead and smiled, nervously. She set down the blanket and smiled.

"Of course. Now, if it rains, what will you do?"

"I will call for a buggy and wait the rain out in a shop until I can be picked up so I don't ruin my dress." I smiled, happy she had given me a test I could pass. That's what it always was with her, tests. Tests to see if I was proper enough. Tests to see if I was mature enough, lady enough, and skinny enough. Tests, tests, tests. She picked the blanket back up and smiled.

"Good. Have a nice day." I walked calmly out the door, allowing my head to be held firmly and my eyes to only gaze in front of me. Carol had gone back to her knitting entirely and already forgot about me; her mind was on other, more important matters, I'd assume. I headed down the street and walked once more to the Washington Monument. Cowboy was resting again the arches, smoking a cigarette and puffing the smoke in only a way he could make cool.

"Hey, Kelly," I shouted. He turned, threw the butt on the floor and walked over to me, trying not to run in excitement. "I'm ready to meet everyone again."

"Well, damn, it's about time, don'tcha think?" He smirked and stuck out his arm for me to grasp onto. I did so, knowing the eyes of upper class were watching me in disgust, and smiled the entire walk to the lodging house.

Standing in front of the door was a little more nerve-racking. I couldn't help but think things would never be the same again. Jack looked down at me, noticing the change in excitement. "What's wrong, doll?" I shifted unsteadily from side to side and looked at the floor. "Do ya not wanna meet em?"

"No, no I do. I'm just nervous is all. Do I… do I look okay?" It came out before I could stop myself and suddenly I felt very feminine. Six years of constant banter about my looks would do that, I suppose. Jack grabbed the bottom of my chin and turned me toward him.

"Ya look beautiful, always have." I smiled and color flooded to my face. My normal porcelain skin was now a shade of rose petal pink and Jack couldn't help but laugh. My face turned even redder then. By the time he opened the door, I felt like I had a fever from how badly I was blushing.

"SURPRISE!" The boys jumped out from behind sitting chairs and the front desk. I couldn't help but scream of both fright and excitement. There was a banner hanging above the stairwell that said "Welcome bak!" The c was clearly missing and it made me smile inwardly. Next thing I knew, Racetrack was grabbing me in an embrace and spinning me around.

"I'se so excited ta see ya!" He was saying as we kept spinning. My dress was bubbling up and in that moment, I felt like a princess. He put me down and smiled at me, his whole face grinning. "You'se beautiful, ya know that?" I could feel the red coming back.

"Aw, Race." I put my hands on his face. "You're all grown up! Last time I saw you, I was taller than you by two inches!" Race dropped the grin.

"Yeah, well, we don't speak about dat now do we, boys?" The boys laughed and one by one, I got reacquainted with everyone I had known back then. Mush had gained a lot of muscle and it was a little hard not to stare as he'd unbuttoned his shirt a little far due to the heat of the day. He was still a big teddy bear though and he told me it was him who wrote the sign. I smiled, knowing that any of the boys would have made the same mistake, and that he'd been so proud of it. Crutchy was doing worse than he had been as a kid. His leg was growing more and more painful but the smile on his face showed that he simply didn't care. Blink, well, his eye patch really was real. As a kid, he used it just to sell papers. Turns out that angered a few people and someone made it so the eye patch was actually necessary. He'd grown tall as well. They all towered over my small frame but I still felt like in that moment, I was one of them again. I was home.

"Heya, Lily, we got someone you gotta meet." Jack dragged Davey over and stood him in front of me. He was tall as well, but more well-mannered than the other newsies. He had brown curly hair that rested against his forehead under his cap. His smile lit his entire face up and his blue eyes sparkled genuinely as he took his hat off and introduced himself.

"I'm David, but Jack told me you already knew that." I smiled and looked him in the eyes. They were beautiful. I couldn't help but stare.

"He did, he told me all about how if it wasn't for you, there wouldn't have been any strike and you boys wouldn't be anywhere." Jack scoffed, because he definitely had not told me that, but it was implied in the story telling. Davey smiled and blushed slightly. That made me blush and I looked down. I had definitely grown shy over the years.

"I… if it weren't for all of us, we wouldn't have beat the strike," he said. I smiled knowing he was inwardly thanking me.

Time went on and the boys asked me a ton of questions like how much money my dress cost and if I had food on my table every night. I felt guilty. Guilty because I lied to them, making it seem like I had less than I really did and that this dress cost only half of what I really spent on it. How could I tell them that this single dress cost more than what they would make in a life time? How could I say that none of it made me happy either?

Night time had fallen and I'd spent the entire day with the boys. We went out to Tilly's and, despite their disagreements, I paid for the whole meal. We traveled along old alley ways and Davey's little brother Les showed me where he sold his papers. He was twelve and reminded me of Jack as a little kid. His perfection at getting papers astounded me. He won me over quite a few times. Now we were all sitting back in the lodging house, worn out from an exciting day. Davey and I were sitting on the roof staring out into the big city and Jack was in the house talking to all the newsies about something important.

"What'd you think of everybody?" Davey asked. He was keeping me company because I knew they were downstairs discussing Spot.

"They're all wonderful. I guess you never realize how much you miss things until you see them again." He smiled in understanding and took off his suspenders so they hung down by his side.

"I can understand that." I fiddled with the hem of my dress and allowed the silence to engulf us for a while. Davey was staring out at the city, aware of the awkwardness but trying to fight it.

"David," I said. He looked over at me and widened his eyes. "I don't want to offend you in any way, or make assumptions, but why, I mean, how…"

"Am I a newsie?" He asked, finishing my question. I nodded my head and forced my eyes to remain on his. "My father was injured two years ago in his factory. They let him off because he wasn't any use to them anymore. I start pushin' papers in order to raise enough money for the family. My sister and mom started workin' too. Well, after the strike, my dad was able to get his job back at the factory and in turn, he started making a lot more money than we expected because he became close friends with the boss. He gave him ideas and the boss gave him money as long as the ideas could be shared in 'Mr. Applemans' name."

"So your dad gave away million dollar ideas for dollar amounts?" I asked. I was trying not to sound angry, but this happened all the time and it angered me to know that Carol's husband, Grey, did it on a daily basis. And that money funded the dress I was wearing now.

"Basically. But, we didn't really care because it's not like he'd ever be able to give out the ideas and sell them on his own. Anyways, we really started making money then and we went from lower-middle class to upper-middle class. I kept pushin' papers because I love the newsies, but I also go to school now and am studying to be a lawyer." He smiled at me, proud of his heritage and his life he'd made for himself.

"You'd be a great lawyer," I said softly. I couldn't stop looking at his gleaming eyes.

"Ya think?"

"Absolutely."

"Lily?" I looked over at him expectantly. "Why don't you want Spot ta know you're here?" I paused briefly before replying.

"It's surreal. I came back anxious to see everyone and terrified that no one would accept me. On the outside, I'm an adopted first class girl who shouldn't be caught with newsies in my life time or I could get in serious trouble. On the inside, I'm a girl who grew up with these boys. I was taken away from the too soon and when I got back and everyone accepted me right away, as if I'd never left them, I couldn't help but pretend that everything was okay. I'm living in a fantasy world and we all know it. We forget that I have to sneak away to see you guys and that, I mean, just look at me. I don't belong. If Spot knew I was here, after everything we've been through… I don't know. Maybe I'm scared. Maybe I know everything will crash down eventually and I know it'll happen when he finds out. He'll make me choose. Without him, I can keep pretending everything's okay and that I'm okay with living two separate worlds."

Downstairs, I heard Jack move out the fire escape and crawl up the stairs to where we were sitting. I turned around and smiled at him. "Heya, Kelly." He grinned and walked over to us.

"Time ta get home, dontcha think? Won't yer parent's get mad?" The word parents angered me but I held it down and stood up.

"Probably," I said nonchalantly. I walked ahead of them so they could talk amongst themselves. They already were and I could hear the whispers.

"Don't get attached," Jack said. "She's Spot's goil." The idea made me wince and weak to the stomach at the same time. After six years, how could I possibly still be his girl? David had laughed as quietly as he could. They must not have understood that I had wonderful hearing because they clearly had no idea I was listening.

"Spot has twenty other girls, it's not like he'd notice if one was distracted."

My heart sunk. We entered the lodging house again and I quickly said goodbye to everyone. When I laid down in bed that night, I fought the stinging that came to my eyes and wiped away the excess tears. Six years is a long time. A long time to grow up and move on, that's for sure. Besides, I couldn't keep up this charade for too long. I had to let the newsies go… but seeing everyone today reminded me of my love for them and the freedom they helped me feel. I made the decision then and there to do whatever it takes to keep up this double life of mine. It meant far too much to me.


	3. Chapter 3

Spot was eager to see his friends in Manhattan. He hadn't heard from them in days and was slightly worried about them. They weren't necessarily what he called the smartest crew. He loved them, sure, but he knew that Davey was the only one with brains in the group and his brains were only half of what Spot possessed. Besides, things in Brooklyn had gotten boring as everything reached a standstill. Usually, Spot was needed to break up fights or start them, but lately, everyone was in a good mood. Except for him, that is. He read people and he read them well. The last time Cowboy had decided to visit, Spot could tell there was something on his mind that he wouldn't give up. It was rare for Jack to hide things from Spot. It was rare for anyone to hide things from him. He knew it was important and he knew that only way to find out what it was, was to show up at a random time, uninvited. And that's exactly what he planned on doing.

I was eating my over-easy eggs when Carol brought up the suitors. She always brought them up when I had food in my mouth because I remember always choking slightly and having to take a drink to wash it down. She clearly did it so I had little time to respond and plenty of time to listen.

"He works with your father and is from a very respectable family. Their eldest daughter recently married the mayor." She was eating her egg and talking with her friends. It was brunch in the Gregory household. Yeah, that's my new adopted name. Lillian Gregory. Nasty, huh?

"Not to mention, he's so attractive," the lady with the pointy noise commented. She said it towards me and I smiled, trying to fit in. In reality, I was thinking about when I could meet with the newsies again. It'd been three days since the first visit and I was craving selling a paper once more. I used to be wonderful at it. I was, after all, the girl who taught Jack how to fake sick. No, not really. It was probably the other way around, but it was six years ago, how should I remember?

"Yes, he would definitely bring the family name a boost. But there are plenty of other suitors; Lillian has grown into such a beautiful lady." Carol looked over at me and smiled. I was surprised. She rarely called me beautiful. She held a small resentment towards me because I'm not technically her blood. She and Grey had tried for children since they were married but were never able to. It's probably why she constantly knits baby blankets: a ghost she was never able to rid herself of.

"And her ratty hair has certainly sorted itself out." Gee, thanks, lady with the pointy nose. My hair is curly. It's always been curly. When you can't shower every day and can't afford to use expensive shampoo that leaves your hair silky smooth, yes, curls look a bit frizzy and messy. Of course, that was when I was first adopted and it's a wonder it's still brought up. My hair really had gotten better. It's more of a raven color now and it glistens just a bit versus the dull black and knotted clumps it was in. "When are you planning on finding your evening dress, Lillian?"

I looked up at her in shock and took a second to recover. "Oh, for the party? Yes, I was l planning on going out today. It's a nice day out and the streets have finally dried up from the past few storms, so I know I won't get dirty." Carol smiled and nodded her head.

"What color dress do we think?" She asked the group of friends around her. Not me. No, she'd never ask me. I heard a range of colors from blue to gold and in the end, they decided that I should decide after I tried them all on. Then they rushed me out the door to get shopping. Carol suggested buying a few just in case I got invited to more. Gee, how fun.

I walked out into the New York streets and smiled at my sudden freedom. I knew I had to come home with a dress, but in the mean time, I could spend a little time with the boys as well. I made my way to the lodging house and listened to the bellowing of headlines. It was only the morning, but they would be back soon to put away excess change—if that ever happened—and then they would head out to lunch so I decided to wait on the steps for them. I must have fallen asleep because next thing I knew, Jack was shaking me awake with a big ole smile on his face.

"Now, Lily, what da hell ya doin' on da steps?" I laughed and stood up, dusting my dress out. He grabbed my hand and started leading me towards Tilly's. "I was on my way back ta pick up my hat, cuz I accidently forgot it, and I see you lounging out on the steps like a poor goil thrown out on da streets!"

I laughed. "I was waiting for you guys. I didn't want to stop anyways selling, so I decided to wait. I guess I didn't sleep so well, because I don't even remember falling asleep." We entered Tilly's and sat down next to Mush, Race, and Davey. They all smiled up at me and stood up and I took my seat. "Alright, none of that…"

"Where ya been?" Race asked. "I wanted ta tell you all bout the horse yesterday!" Racetrack had always been interested in the races. It was practically where he was born. His dad brought him there every year to bet on the same number horse, even as the horses themselves changed. Race kept going even after his dad disappeared. Cept, he learned to bet wiser and not just on some silly number. Though, he still hasn't made it big.

"Busy. Carol doesn't really let me out of the house." They stopped eating and stared at me. I forgot I never really mention my parents. Or adopted family. Or whatever they're supposed to be called. The first visit was more like a family reunion, you meet, greet, smile and laugh about old times, but never talk about what's actually going on and the difficulties that are actually occurring. "Carol is um, well, my adopted mom, I guess."

"What's she like?" Davey asked. I shrugged my shoulders.

"Like, every other first class mom. She stays at home to see that the house keeper does her job." They nodded their heads. They were clearly disappointed in the shattered reality. I wasn't one of them. My heart broke a little too.

"Why'd she let ya out now?" Mush asked. He was smiling, trying to fight the awkward separation. He'd always been the one to break up arguments and settle disputes. No one could argue with his sweet face.

"To buy a dress. I have… a suitor's party soon." They all looked at each other and then back at me. Marriage hadn't yet occurred to them as something they would possibly do. This lunch was going downhill fast.

"Well, goodness, why didn't ya say so sooner? I'm da expert dress finder!" Jack joked. The mood instantly picked up and the rest of lunch was just like the initial meeting: comfortable and safe.

When it was over, I decided I should actually look for the dress. Jack made me promise to stop by after when I bought it to show everyone and the boys seemed pretty excited, so I figured it'd be okay. I left them all and entered the shopping district. For the first time all day—except for breakfast—I felt out of place. The women around me were dressed like me. They held their heads high and walked with beautiful posture, like me. But none of them felt the aching and yearning to sell papers like me or the incredible desire to swim in the docks like me. I quickly entered the tailor and tried to hide myself in clothes.

As much as I'd like to say I haven't gotten used to having money or getting whatever I want, when I want it, I have. And I enjoy it a lot. The first time Carol took me shopping in Virginia, a month after the completed adoption process, I was terrified I would get caught for stealing. There was no way this lady had the money to pay for the dress she was about to buy me. I was used to dresses, sure. Just because you're a girl newsie, doesn't mean you don't wear dresses. But this dress had frill on it. I was blue and what Carol called the "sailor" look. It had white lining and gold buttons with a design on them I can't quite remember now. The frill on the sleeves itched my shoulders really badly and I remember tearing off the dress and throwing it away because I was tired of the red marks on my arms. Carol was a bit upset about that. Since then however, I bought whatever she wanted me to buy. It's expected of me. It's required of me. It's something I have to do or I could get in quite a lot of trouble and no, not with Carol or Grey. So when I say, I enjoy shopping, I say I enjoy it because I have to enjoy it. I've learned to care what I look like and care about how I act.

Instantly in the store I spot at least two dresses I would like. One is a gold velvet dress that flows onto the floor into a train behind me. It had embroidery covering the bottom like flowers growing in spring made of satin and lace. The tailor tells me there's also chiffon and chenille. It's beautiful. The second is less stunning, though I'm sure Carol would appreciate it. It's a light shade of pink and merely scrapes the floor. There's little embroidery but the top has a set of ruffles that accents a certain area. It'll be noticeable to men for sure, but it's subtle enough that Carol will merely think it's sweet. I decide to buy both of them.

By the time I head back to the lodging house it's sunset. I pause outside the door to look at it and fight back the memories of sitting on the dock with my feet hanging off the edge. _Holding hands. _I shake my head. I was eleven then. I've grown. He's grown. We're both mature and adult now. I open the door and walk in with my head held high, somehow not hearing the shouting that was occurring inside.

My dresses drop to the floor and he turns around coolly. His eyes are stone and imminent. His lips are set in a fine line as though he should be furious in yelling. But he isn't. He's holding onto a golden tipped cane as though he'd just pulled it out and a hat is rested on the table beside him. It was clearly his as his hair is strewn and messy. He's the only one I see in the room and his face shows no emotion—a craft he clearly developed over the years. He's wearing a white shirt with faded blue striped and one red suspender is hanging off his shoulder. His pants are an inch too short and his shoes are scuffed and worn. But he seems like the king of the room. The man in charge. The Spot Conlon.


End file.
